


I'm Late, Late for a Very Important Date

by vtforpedro



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10386201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: The date doesn't quite go as planned.





	

Bilbo was being stood up. He knew this, he had finally accepted it after thirty minutes of waiting, but it didn’t stop the rush of indignant annoyance and boiling hot humiliation he felt.

He had been stood up once before and only being twenty-three at the time, hadn’t fared well with it, and was a bit frightened that he wasn’t going to fare well with it this time either. But _oh,_ he had so been looking forward to this date. It had been all he thought about the last week and his writing had both flourished (surges of inspiration) and suffered (fits of anxiousness) for it.

Thorin. An utterly handsome man that Bilbo had come across through an online dating site. Black-haired and bearded, eyes so blue his heart could hardly take it, a strong, sharp nose - and apparently he was over six feet tall, something Bilbo was rather intrigued by. They hadn’t talked much, which seemed to suit both of them just fine. Bilbo had learned a few harsh lessons over the last six months on talking to someone too much before actually meeting them. It had made him lower his guard and made it easier for the wrong sorts to get into his life, despite how well they might have gotten on through emails and texts.

No, with _Thorin,_ he had taken a different approach. They knew they had certain things in common - literature, music, a fondness for sweets - but the rest was left unsaid to give them more to talk about and to see how they got on once they met. Thorin seemed quiet and his texts were serious enough to make Bilbo smile.

How he had wanted to meet him.

But it seemed Thorin wasn’t going to show and Bilbo felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. Thirty-five minutes late now but he decided to give him five more, hating himself for it.

The waitress that had filled his bread basket twice since he got there had given him some space when he had turned quiet and her sympathetic smile when she brought him another water was almost too much to bear. But now she approached and he informed her that it seemed like his date was not to be - her surprising vehemence for the man and rather foul utterance of what he could go do to himself made Bilbo snicker despite everything. He left her a tip once she had gone and stood to leave the Italian restaurant that had looked so bright and cheery once he arrived but now seemed sterile and too stuck-up.

It was cold outside when he stepped out of the door and he hugged his coat tighter to himself, walking to the edge of the sidewalk, sidestepping a few people as they bustled toward the restaurant. He would need to hail a cab, something he hadn’t thought he would be doing so early in the evening, and squinted down the street. But before he could do so, he did something that he hated himself even more for: he checked his phone.  
  
Nothing. The slightest bit of hope that maybe he had gotten a text in the last minute was quashed and he shoved the offending object back in his pocket, looking toward the street.

A man came to a stop just a few feet to his right and Bilbo heard him mutter a very distinct _‘fuck’_ in a growl that made him sniff and turn up his nose. Not that he wasn’t prone to much fouler things himself but he was annoyed, and so it was an irritant. Bilbo spied a cab and stuck his hand in the air to hail it just as the man swore again. He huffed, glancing sidelong at him to see him fiddling with his phone - those were very fine gloves - before he turned to look toward the cab coming nearer.

Bilbo felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket and his heart made a dramatic leap into his throat. Oh, he just _knew._ He knew who it was going to be and he had half a mind to launch his phone into the street if he saw Thorin’s name. After letting it ring a few more times, he finally yanked it out, holding one finger up toward the driver as he came to a stop in front of him. Bilbo scowled down at the glowing screen of his phone and the name and picture there.

_Thorin._

How much he wished to find his portrait terribly ugly suddenly and how much it bothered him when he couldn’t. He debated letting it go to voicemail but his stubborn side flared up and he put the phone to his ear after accepting the call.

“Hello?” he answered, hoping it was with just the right amount of frostiness.

The man next to him whirled toward him so quickly that Bilbo startled, taking a step back from him and looking up at his face, wide-eyed. He was quite tall and staring down at Bilbo with a look of such shock that Bilbo wondered if he hadn’t seen him there at first.

“Bilbo?” the man asked, slowly lowering his phone from its place near his ear.

Bilbo blinked twice at him and it took a moment longer than it should have to recognize the man was his picture come to life. He started, feeling both relieved and harried. “Thorin,” he blurted, looking his would-be date up and down. He was wearing a black pea coat with a grey sweater underneath and rather flattering slacks and- oh, no. Bilbo was furious with him, not finding him attractive at all, thank you very much, and lifted his gaze, narrowing his eyes.

Thorin seemed to wilt a little before a sudden desperation filled his eyes. “Bilbo, I’m- I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m late, I hoped you would still be here,” he rushed, shifting a little closer, stopping when he likely read the hostility in Bilbo’s own eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I got lost. I was fifteen minutes down the motorway before I realized I had missed my turn and I was already ten minutes late to begin with. I’m sorry for making you wait for me-”

“You got lost?” Bilbo repeated, not bothering to feel badly about interrupting Thorin. He blinked owlishly as the man nodded, looking so earnest that Bilbo almost believed him. _“You_ chose the restaurant.”

That brought out a truly fetching shade of red over Thorin’s cheeks and nose suddenly - even his ears - and his lips pursed into a hard line. “I came here with my sister before,” he muttered, lifting his hand to rub at his neck, obviously uncomfortable. “I didn’t drive then.”

Bilbo arched his eyebrows. “So you forgot where it was altogether?” he asked, feeling a warmth growing in the back of his throat. It wasn’t like the pathetic sting he had felt when he first realized Thorin wasn’t going to show and he bit his lip as a blossom of humor grew in his chest. “Why didn’t you call me when you realized you’d missed the turn?”

Somehow Thorin’s blush grew brighter and Bilbo pursed his lips at the sight, trying not to let fondness creep into his gaze. Thorin looked so bothered that he pitied him a bit.

“I honestly didn’t think about it in my rush to get here,” Thorin said, his heavy brow furrowing. “I might have broken a few traffic laws. Bilbo…” He trailed off as Bilbo gave a loud, unflattering snort, his mouth snapping closed.

Oh, Bilbo couldn’t help it anymore. He began to laugh, quiet at first but louder when Thorin grew a little prickly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He’d feel bad about laughing at him later but he was filled with so much relief that Thorin _did_ mean to be there and _did_ mean to have their date - and that he clearly felt terrible about mucking it up. As Bilbo’s laughter startled a passing couple, Thorin’s face turned into a moody scowl and he looked away.

Bilbo pressed the back of his hand to his lips to muffle his giggles and tried to swallow down the rest of it. “I’m sorry,” he managed, grinning as Thorin glanced sidelong at him, worry shining forth in his eyes again. “I’m sorry for laughing, it’s just that- well, it doesn’t matter. I really thought you were standing me up.”

“No, never,” Thorin replied, stepping closer. “I’ve been looking forward to this. A lot.”

“Were you looking forward to it so much you missed your turn off?” Bilbo asked, smiling still. Thorin looked sheepish and he could not help but laugh again. The man finally deflated, ducking his head and looking toward his shoes. When he looked back up, a self-deprecating sort of grin came over him and his eyes crinkled with warmth, sucking all of Bilbo’s amusement straight from him. Goodness gracious, he was far too attractive for his own good.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin said, sighing. “I’d still like to have dinner with you. Can you forgive me so we can try again?”

Bilbo looked at the restaurant and the people milling outside, waiting for their table. “Well. We’ll have lost our reservation now,” he said, looking up at Thorin, watching guilt take him again. He smiled, jerking his thumb toward the other side of the street. “But there’s a Chinese takeaway place right there, if you’re up for it?”

The relief that filled Thorin’s features was entirely too endearing but his broad grin would be the death of Bilbo. “I’d love to,” Thorin said earnestly, looking across the street before he turned back. “Thank you, Bilbo. For giving me another chance.”

“Oh you’re very lucky for that,” Bilbo said slyly, turning belatedly to look at the cab. He blinked as he realized it wasn’t there anymore and that he hadn’t even seen it go. He cleared his throat, looking back at Thorin and smiling. “You’ll have to buy me ice cream to improve your chances of a second date, however.”

Thorin chuckled. “I can do that. Gladly,” he agreed, then offered his arm for Bilbo to take, grinning.

Bilbo looked at it and couldn’t quite help but beam back at Thorin as he took it, letting himself be guided across the street. The man was agreeably warm. And if he didn’t quite let go of Bilbo until they had Chinese in their hands, well, he wasn’t complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Thorin getting lost is my absolute favorite trope in this fandom. I wrote this a few weeks ago and thought I might as well share it. I was thinking if I write more little ficlet things that I could make this the first of a collection. I hope you like this silliness.


End file.
